Favorite Genre Of Saw Photos Gotta Be Behind The Scenes Snapshots Where Theyre Still Covered In Blood

Adam, I swear…

I gave a victorian kid some sour patch kids and he sprinkled a little bit of cocaine on it as casually as you would salt before even taking a bite

My Ghost BC theory is that there is a rat below Copia’s new mitre that dictates how he runs the Ministry. like Ratatouille. aaaaaand post

If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.

guys i think we found the fish

Anyone else think that fish lures look super pretty and even tasty or just me

Fierce kitten tries to fight mama

(via)

More ghouls interacting with the Sisters of Sin.

-with some old era boys who I headcanon stick around the ministry to help out even if they no longer tour.

Mountain helping the oldest nuns who have trouble getting around now and then. They call him a sweet young man. (He is.)

Omega is another that does this frequently. He's a beefy boy that can carry any ladies too tired or sore to walk.

He also helps clean the headstones in the graveyard.

Keeping watch or standing guard is a common task for ghouls, but Aurora goes on the offensive. She patrols the surrounding area and woods almost eager to sink her claws into anyone with ill intent.

A Sister gets caught out in the rain or snow. Ifrit ushers her inside and with a gesture of his hand lights the fireplace so she can dry off and warm up.

Dewdrop helps if someone has trouble sleeping. He's often up late, so he sits with those struggling to fall asleep and talks with them. Sometimes he'll run his claws gently through their hair until they're lulled to sleep.

Cumulus uses her magic to help sweep the cathedral and dust hard to reach places, making the job easier on the Sisters.

-and she'll cheekily make a nun's skirts fly up, if she's involved with them.

Swiss is the willing-and-eager errand boy, whether it's helping in the bustling kitchens or running things from one end of the cathedral to the other. He likes being around the sisters.

Sometimes he leans down and taps his cheek in that playful way to ask for a kiss, in return for his hard work.

Cirrus is the go-to support for anyone frightened or upset. She's mellow and steady and her hands are strong when she holds onto a trembling sister who's just been shaken awake by a nightmare.

Rain's hands are magic. He rubs any sore hands for the ladies after a day of work. Shoulders, or feets too if they're comfortable with it. It's easy to be flustered when he's knelt down in front of you making every ache melt away though.

Phantom is the type to put blankets over people who fall asleep. Days can be long and everyone has nodded off from exhaustion before. His magic makes him quiet and gentle enough to move Sisters to their beds without waking them if it's close enough to lights out.

Aether, old ghoul, sweetest of demons. He's seen it all and there's nothing you can throw at him that will phase him. He's held these girls through every loss and heartache and his arms are always open for them.

“I think you’re very likable, Simon.”

The man in the skull mask instantly jerks his gaze up to connect with the other man’s face, as if it’ll be obvious he was just joking.

Ghost’s therapist looks evenly back at him, blinking innocently.

“What,” the masked man finally grits, annoyed that he won’t even acknowledge the joke.

“You’ve convinced yourself that you’re scary enough to keep people from wanting to get to know you. I hate to tell you this, but it’s not working. I’ve liked you from the first session.”

The masked man glares down at his own scarred fingers, entwining them slightly atop his knees. “You’re paid to like people.”

“Something I find interesting about you is that you have, by your own words, a little gaggle of people in your life who won’t leave you alone. Follow you around everywhere, talk to you when they don’t have to, support you when you need it. What do you think is more likely, that lightning has struck you that many times, or that you might be a little bit likable?”

Ghost sits with that for a minute in silence, trying to manufacture a scenario in his own mind where different kinds of lightning just happen to strike the same spot, purely by nature of the infinite possibilities of the universe.

“I don’t like you,” he finally tells his kneecaps.

The therapist inwardly smiles. There it is again.

Before you post, think:

Is it groovy

Is it smashing, baby

Is it shagedelic

Does it give you mojo

Does it make others randy

I cast turn up your brightness